


the stars look nice tonight.

by beemblebummed



Category: TF:P - Fandom, TF:RID, TFP, TFRID, Transformers: Prime, Transformers: Robots in Disguise (2015)
Genre: Father-Daughter Relationship, Fluff, Strongarm & Bumblebee Father-Daughter Relationship, cute shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-20 07:49:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8241833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beemblebummed/pseuds/beemblebummed
Summary: a quiet night is all you need for a nice conversation about some unspoken feelings.





	

**Author's Note:**

> just some cute shit i wanted to do because i've started watching RID2k15 again, and i jUST. love the dad/kids dynamic with Bee and his team??? good shit. ENJOY

Strongarm usually couldn’t tell, for the life of her, when people didn’t appreciate nor want her presence. She never quite understood why she was so… _dense_ , as some would often say. It made her feel very closed off, very left out, very wrong. But she rarely ever spoke of such things; bringing others down, the few friends that she actually _had_  into her problems— it just didn’t seem like the smart or polite thing to do. Of course, that only served to make her further miserable, but her work and studying made it easy to ignore it most of the time.

She never quite liked Ultra Magnus, though she admired his work ethic and standards. She just tended to… dislike his attitude towards her. She was just a rascal in his sophisticated optics, just a punk who wanted to be special. “What’s wrong with wanting to be special?”, she used to think to herself. Apparently, a _lot_. And that made their work relationship harder.

It made Strongarm really happy that she wouldn’t have to train under him, directly, for much longer— the day she was told the legendary _Bumblebee_ , the scout of the original team under Optimus Prime, the incredible war veteran with so much experience and wisdom under his door wings… it was the best feeling in the galaxy. The young cadet promised herself in that moment that she _would_  become special, that she _would_  prove herself more than a punk, an overly energetic police officer. She would become the next legendary Autobot, serving and protecting, amazing as anything.

Working alongside the lieutenant was everything Strongarm had imagined it would be, everything she had ever wanted. There she was, out on the streets, serving and protecting, and Bumblebee was her mentor! She had never felt _more_  special. She had always been at the bottom of the pyramid most of her living cycle, the aft-end of jokes about failures, of femmes and mechs who would end up doing nothing exceptional or meaningful as long as they lived. With this new lifestyle, that would all change, she _knew_  it! No one could tell her to her face that she was nothing, because she was so very much _something_. She made sure of that, without fail, the moment it really set in that bots would look down on her for an extended period of time.

No amount of jokes and insults would change that. With their mission as a team of Decepticon hunters officially moving to the planet Earth, home of tiny flesh life forms, Strongarm found herself feeling like an even bigger part of something. It was scary at first— the change, the cut-off, the unorthodox lifestyle and setting— but they made it work. _She_  made it work. Getting used to this new home was good for her, she would tell herself every night before taking time to recharge. The sudden change helped, the differences made her better at handling things when they were delivered suddenly, with no warning or time beforehand to prepare. After a while, she really was okay with that.

It was a stressful stretch of time with the whole return of past baddies from various places. Strongarm had gotten some real time in with the extreme kind of danger, and though hunting criminals came pretty close, fighting supposedly deactivated warlords and sidekicks of said warlords was definitely a bigger amount of food on a plate.

Or something like that. She hadn’t figured out all of the Earth sayings just yet.

“Strongarm,” greets a quiet voice, sounding hesitant to disturb the nightly peace. She looks up to meet the face of her mentor, pleased to be in his company even at this time she takes for silence and reflection.

“Hey, lieutenant,” she answers, carefully scooting over on the big metal box she had utilized for a seat. Patting the space beside her, Strongarm nods. “You can sit, if you want.”

Bumblebee nods as well, lowering himself slowly onto the surface. Once he settles down, sure that it won’t collapse under their weight, he relaxes. Strongarm is just silently admiring the skies overhead, so he follows suit, always having enjoyed the sight anyway. It gives him a sense of joy that his cadet shares that with him.

“What’s up?” Strongarm inquires, looking over to him now. “Something wrong?”

“Nah,” Bee says, leaving his gaze on the heavens, “I just thought I’d join you for a moment. I wanted to kind of… check on everyone. I know I’m not really the team leader anymore, but that doesn’t really kill my need for making sure you guys are okay.”

The femme blinks, pondering that before focusing on a particularly big star. “Like… Denny Clay?” she says in curiosity, trying to recall what Earth term they use for older humans who care for younger humans.

He gives a quick chuckle at her question, nodding. “Like Denny Clay,” he repeats, amused by his younger friend.

“A father,” Strongarm states when she remembers the term she had been mentally searching for. She tilts her head and then hums briefly. “That’s what Denny Clay is to Russel— a father. Right?”

There follows a silence after her words, instigated by the implication, though Bee had already thought of that. It’s that Strongarm really acknowledges it that kind of curve balls him, rather than the fact itself. He has, since near the beginning of his training with Strongarm, considered her his charge in various ways. With his knowledge of the way humans functioned in familial groups, he had even thought of her as his daughter a few times, even if he never said such, or brought it up with really _anyone._  Once, he had mentioned it to Arcee when they had met up for a small get-together with the other components of their original team on Earth, but other than said femme poking fun at him for really reaching maturity, the conversation wasn’t followed up. Maybe he had been nervous to admit that he really did care for his team in that way, even love them. Strongarm, specifically.

He saw himself in her. A lot.

“Mm… yeah,” Bee mutters, nodding. “Yeah, like a father.”

The femme thinks about that for a second, and then she smiles a bit bigger than before. “You’re a good father, Bee.”

With her statement, Bumblebee now turns his head to look at her, shocked at both that she had just said that, and that it was definitely something she thought of as true. She isn’t the best at lying, but rarely ever does she seem to say things unless she really means them— she speaks her mind or she doesn’t speak at all. That’s something Bumblebee could always rely on her for; the honesty, intentional on her part or not.

The feeling he gets is both incredible and terrible. Even now, Bee has a hard time really considering himself a leader, a role model, like Optimus. He had always looked up to the Prime, he had thought of him as a father, and Bee  _loved_  him. Nothing had ever changed that, and Optimus had never let him down, another thing that never changed. Bumblebee was always able to rely on him, always able to go to him for help or advice or encouragement. He didn’t even need to ask for it sometimes.

The fact that he is that to someone else, is _staggering._

“I… I am?” Bee asks softly, continuing to stare at Strongarm with that look of utter shock.

She scoffs, meeting his gaze after he says that. The femme’s shows that she’s both amused and confused, like she assumes he’s joking with her in some way. A shake of her head, and Strongarm reaches over to shove him lightly.

“Of course! You’re like… the unspoken father of our team,” she declares, the sureness in her voice and body language strong. “You pretty much always have been.”

“It’s.. it’s not _my_  team, Optimus is here now,” Bee says quietly, not really sure of what else to say yet, so he chooses that for now.

Strongarm returns her servos to her lap and sighs, giving him a raised eyebrow. “Optimus Prime is a leader, and the leader of our group now, no doubt. He was the leader of the original group of Autobots on this planet, of you and your friends— but we’re not…. _his_  team.”

Once the mech wears a completely dumbfounded expression, Strongarm huffs and starts again,

“It’s like… Denny Clay loves _his_ son, but even if he loves another child, he’s not _their_ father,” she tries, her words slower than previously. “Like… Optimus might be our leader, but we’re _your_  team. Does that make sense at all?”

It takes a moment for that to be wrapped around his head. He blinks, and then, after that moment of confusion is over, it sinks in, and he knows exactly what Strongarm is trying to tell him. Slowly, Bee smiles at her, narrowing his optics, as though hesitant to show that he really does get it.

“That…. that makes perfect sense,” Bumblebee murmurs, his voice low and gentle, the presence of his happiness and relief clear to Strongarm. She smiles just as wide as she has been when Bee stands up, and then lightly shoves her by the shoulder. A response is given in the form of a small giggle, but she doesn’t shove back. They’re even now.

He begins to walk away, the things having been said heavy on his Spark, but in the best way it ever has been. Bumblebee nearly just exits with no extra comment or words to the femme, but he decides against it last second, stopping and turning to look at her again.

“Strongarm,” he calls softly.

She looks over to him, listening attentively for what he may say.

Bee pauses, trying to find exactly what he _should_  say as a closing line for their conversation, but he doesn’t want to get overly emotional for it, as emotional as he is in this present. So he just inclines his head towards her and smiles, his voice shaking as he says affectionately,

“You’re a good kid.”

With that, he turns once more and walks on. Strongarm beams, optics glowing both literally and metaphorically— _a good kid_ , she repeats mentally. _I_ ’ _m a good kid._

Sitting alone now, Strongarm stares back into the sky.

She can tell now, with utmost clarity and confidence— Bumblebee appreciates her. And that’s the best kind of feeling she’s had in a good while.


End file.
